I have been very careful about not calling myself a full-time mom so as not to offend moms who work out of home. After all, when a mother heads off to work for 8-10 hours daily she does not stop being a mom.
But over the last few days, I have decided that I'm going to start calling myself a full-time mom. I mean, this job that I'm doing is endless. I don't have a quit time. It's just what I do all the time. Except when I'm sleeping (and that's not really true unless the boys stay peacefully asleep the whole night). Or when I'm eking out a few moments in the morning to workout. And if I were taking care of someone else's children, this would certainly be called a full-time job. Plus overtime. Plus extra days off just because of the high stress nature of the job (shrieking kids, fighting, poop).
The past few days I've been feeling like going to work would be a welcome reprieve. Now, the line of work I would be doing (teaching), I know, is not a break. It is hard work that doesn't end at the end of the school day. And I'm not quite sure what else I could do with my Master's degree in Childhood Education . . . or what else I would want to do with it. And in this job market? I know that on the flip side, being a work-out-of home has it's own challenges and frustrations. I know . . . but I've been feeling pretty challenged and frustrated with this full-time/overtime gig these past few days. (((sigh))) I have been impatient. Not compassionate. Short. Mean. Annoying. The whole nine. I feel like I need a moment . . . no, some moments. And I know that's not realistic so it just keeps grinding on.
Hopefully in a few days, I'll feel a shift. Gain some perspective or something. Right now, it's just . . . what it is.